


You in Your Boxers, Me in My Daydreams

by Itgoeson



Series: I Think You're My Best Friend [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Communication, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Relationship Discussions, Sex Talk, Trans Sugawara Koushi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itgoeson/pseuds/Itgoeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga realizes that he and Daichi are, in fact, perfect for each other. </p>
<p>Well, he's known for a while. He just hadn't realized Daichi knew, too. </p>
<p>(Fluff. Unrepentant fluff, college realness, and the most Sugawara Koushi-esque proposal I can imagine.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You in Your Boxers, Me in My Daydreams

**Author's Note:**

> I don't mention Suga being trans overmuch here but just know. That boy is trans. Also, vaguely in the same universe as Kisses and Ass Kicking, although one doesn't need to be read to understand the other.

Daichi tells Tanaka and Noya “it just happened,” halfway through dinner when they come up to visit their old teammates for a long weekend.

He tells Hinata it was a long time coming. Hinata, halfway through a spike, hits his own face and screams. “Like, _gwhah?_ Or more like, _byooom?_ Because _gwah_ means Kageyama owes me pork buns for a week.”

Tells Asahi that Suga “surprised him, but – no, stop laughing, Asahi, I’m not _lying_ I’m just – would you quit it?” His pleas come too late though. Asahi is raising his eyebrows and nodding seriously, half-doubtfully and half-apologetically. He still distinctly hears Asahi whisper “you’re full of shit, Daichi.”

Suga cackles when Asahi blushes. He solemnly nods at Noya and Tanaka. Winks at Hinata and  mouths _gwhah_.

The real story is closer to this:

Suga breezes into their shared dorm room on a lazy Saturday afternoon. Daichi is sitting on the floor in his volleyball boxers, the navy blue ones that say “bump, set, spike!” in eye-searing yellow with white volleyballs floating in between words. There are snacks scattered around him, a controller cord winding around one ankle as he shoots zombies on his Xbox.

He blinks when Suga locks the door behind himself – they’ve got a consistent open-door policy.

“Thought you were at the library until late tonight?” Daichi says, brain still buffering. His character takes a hit, and he pauses the game.

Suga just keeps smiling, walking over to him.

Like, weirdly close? He’s not stopping.

Daichi barely has time to be concerned before Suga drops into his lap. A squawk escapes him, but he settles his hands on Suga’s hips quickly.

“I was. But then I realized something.”

Suga’s linking his hands behind Daichi’s neck. Daichi hums. “And what’s that?”

“We should get married.”

Daichi draws in a long, slow breath. “Is this because you don’t date?”

Suga fixes him with the kind of Look that used to mean Daichi was the captain, he could deal with the unruly players or do his own calculus homework. These days, he usually reserves it for two-a-days when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep and fully intends to blame Daichi for the cruel world that is collegiate volleyball practice.

Today, it might mean that Daichi is kind of slow. It’s unclear.

“You don’t date, either,” Suga tells him.

Daichi nods because, yeah. Apparently they’re both pointing out the obvious.

“And you want to have my children.” Suga doesn’t pull his punches, sometimes, and Daichi is never ready enough for those times to keep his wits about him.

“Yeah, but I’ve been in love with you since you sat in front of a window on the first day of class and your hair looked like a halo,” Daichi says.

Oh, maybe he did deserves Suga’s Look, earlier.

Suga untwines the hands around Daichi’s neck to ruffle his hair. “That’s cute. I didn’t know I was going to love you until the day I died until our third practice, when you asked Asahi what you could do to help him after he had that really bad panic attack.” He scrunches up his face, and Daichi is so, so screwed when it comes to this boy. “You were really calm. Steady. Kind of like right now.”  


He laughs. “I’ve mostly been repeating ‘stay cool’ internally for the last five minutes.”

They both giggle, and it’s easy. Suga’s grinning. “So we’re agreed that we should get married, have an adorable life, argue about how many kids we’ll adopt, and I get a black cat to freak out Oikawa?”

“Why is Oikawa there?”

Suga sticks out his tongue. Daichi regrets the day Oikawa swept in and Suga immediately decided to lovingly ridicule him to the end of time.

On the one hand, Daichi’s kind of proud. Oikawa turns into a giant toddler fighting to get Suga’s serious and undivided attention when they’re in the same room. It inevitably turns into a shitshow, but it makes things interesting.

On the other hand, he hasn’t known a moment’s peace since Suga found Oikawa’s “Refreshing-kun is a Cryptid” PowerPoint with twelve pictures of Suga’s hands, a works cited page three slides long, and only the origami transition for every page. Suga laughed adorably at it, though, went home and made a GoogleDoc about his alien ancestry titled “Koushi=Cryptid #Confirmed” that he shared with Oikawa. Now, Daichi can never ask either of them a question without getting a meme about aliens in reply.

But Daichi also had a group chat with Kuroo and Bokuto where they make memes about themselves working out, so he figures Suga is still doing better than him in the friend department.

“Because someone needs to be my best man, and you’ve already mentally called Asahi.” Daichi nods, brain mostly back online, then thinks about the fact that he would like Asahi to be his best man.

Which, well. Suga does know him.

But also – “We could have been together this whole time,” Daichi groans.

Suga flicks him on the forehead. “Was being best friends not enough for you?”

“No! No. I enjoyed every minute of it. Really. I just. Love you a lot?”

“I love you too. Which is also not the first time we’ve said it. Daichi, you do realize nothing’s going to change? Right? This doesn’t have to change anything about us. Half the team thinks we’re dating anyway.”

Daichi nods. “Yeah. But, uh, sex? The sex would be nice, if you’re cool with that. You could top?” Suga is just staring at him and Daichi suddenly can’t stop his mouth from moving. It’s like a nightmare where he’s running across the court without ever getting to the ball, but the court is words and the ball is him shutting up. “-Because I know you have at least two dildos but also you can use them on me if you want I’m –“

Suga laughs, bright and dazzling. His head tilts back and his chest heaves and Daichi can’t even be embarrassed, he’s so beautiful to watch. Then he smiles, and suddenly Daichi is forcefully reminded that Suga is a setter. He waits, and he watches angles and positions and analyzes strategy and then chooses the most ruthless option he can to win a point, a match, or his frantic fiancé’s peace of mind.

When he smiles, he shows too many teeth.

“Sex is gonna happen.”

Daichi is dead, and it’s been nice knowing the world but Suga was always going to be his cause of death. He’s resigned.

“Cool. Cool.” He coughs. “So I was thinking, we could get married in the spring. Gray tuxes and yellow and blue flowers.”

Above him, Suga stops trying to compete with the sun for the most dazzling thing in Daichi’s life and stares at him. He looks a little silly, cow-eyed and so in love. “Daichi what the fuck how long have you been thinking about this.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you haven’t decided how many kids we’re adopting and when we’ll adopt them and also coordinated our theoretical schedules so we can have date nights and have our friends watch them for us.”

Suga blushes a vibrant red. It looks painful. “Fuck. You right though.”

Daichi rolls his eyes. “Of course I am. And you can bring Oikawa if the cake is vanilla and your ring is silver and mine is gold.”

“Yeah. Okay. We should figure out how to tell our parents. Or, well, mine. I love your mom. Your mom is going to be so thrilled to have me in the family. I’m so thrilled to have your mom . . .” Suga trails off. There are stars fluttering in his eyes.

He leans forward to laugh into Suga’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t be laughing. Your parents are gonna be dicks about it.”

“That might be an understatement,” Suga says dryly, “but I don’t think it matters much. They’ve been dicks about us since that time second year my dad saw that picture of us I put in my Chemistry binder.” He shrugs. “The idea of being surprised by us is baffling, at this point.”

The picture in question was of them smushed together, Suga’s arm thrown over Daichi’s shoulder, hand pulled into a peace sign. Daichi’s head was half-turned to keep Suga in the corner of his eye, beaming and hunched to keep Suga’s arm from being pushed into a weird angle from the way their shoulders were level with one another. He’d put it in a box with all his other pictures of the team shortly after and pushed it under Daichi’s bed.

Now, there were pictures of all their friends on every wall in their dorm. Daichi had helped with the washi tape, stomach fizzing at how often he appeared compared to everyone else. He hated Suga’s parents, just a little bit, for making him embarrassed of all his photos.

Daichi snorted softly. “Yeah.”

He nodded decisively, still perched on Daichi’s lap. Actually, that reminded him – “Hey, Sug?”

“Hmm?”

“We tell no one you proposed to me while I was playing video games in my boxers.”

Suga snorts. “Bro, I proposed after realizing that I wasn’t the only one planning our wedding and we’d both been too stupid to mention we’d also like to get naked together. I’m not admitting to that.”

“Hey! This is about more than just getting naked,” Daichi tells him, widening his eyes and looking up as earnestly as possible.

He gets a bruising punch for his trouble. “We were totally going to share an apartment and keep on making dinner for each other and talking to each other’s parents, Sawamura. We’re just giving ourselves a tax break and permission to have sex at this point.”

\--

So Daichi says that Suga surprised him, and Asahi says he’s full of shit, and he’s right. He and Suga were never a surprise – Suga agreeing to take his last name was a shock, but an understandable one. But Suga would curl up on Daichi’s bed when his cramps were bad, would absentmindedly steal Daichi’s pencils and water bottle, would smile at him a heartbeat too long

(Daichi doesn’t want to think of how obvious he was, unless it’s to embarrass Suga with how in love they are.)

Suga tells Hinata it was _gwah,_ like some sort of quick C made off a bad bump and Hinata’s eyes bug out but Daichi isn’t sure that’s in the neighborhood of true. He and Suga are not any kind of explosive sound. They’re solid, a unit. They keep everyone in the game, set the team up to be able to win a point. They work together to afford college, and then Suga’s med school, and always time for each other.

They tell Noya and Tanaka it just happened, which is both the closest to and farthest from the truth.

Daichi and Suga caught each other and held on. They fell into marriage, but they’d made the decision every day for years before that.

“We didn’t fall in love,” Suga tells Oikawa. “We decided on it. And to not talk about how Daichi was in his lucky volleyball boxers playing video games with a food baby from all the junk food.”

Oikawa is _delighted,_ whipping out his phone to text Iwaizumi.

(Daichi silently resigns himself to making Oikawa’s murder look like an accident for Suga’s sake.)


End file.
